


Mobocracy

by trixyastripclubxo



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Arrested, Escape, F/F, Mob for Justice, Mobsters, Police, Police Chase, Wrongful Arrest, mob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixyastripclubxo/pseuds/trixyastripclubxo
Summary: Bianca is a mobster who saves Adore from getting wrongfully arrested. Now, the mob wants some help in return.Miz Cracker is a mobster who's falling for two people at the same time, one of which is the supposed enemy. She also saves a woman's life, and the mob boss happens to start fancying that particular woman.
Relationships: Aquaria/Miz Cracker, Bianca Del Rio & Danny Noriega | Adore Delano, Bianca Del Rio/Danny Noriega | Adore Delano, Kameron Michaels/Miz Cracker, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Wrongful Arrest

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a real story - a few years ago Adore mentioned that a cop thought her loose setting powder was some drug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hi hello this chapter is very short I wrote it while waiting for my turn to shower HAHAHAHA

Adore lazily locks her front door and flops onto the couch. She's drunk. She'd downed a variety of shots, cocktails and champagne after work and is too wasted to move. Her shower would have to wait. She'd initially become a bar singer because she loved singing, but the crowds were loathsome and alcohol post-performing was the only thing that she looked forward to at work now.

_CRASH!_

Adore bolts upright on the couch. Deafening police sirens blare outside her house. Glaring beams of red and blue flood her living room.

_CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!_

Adore's heart skips a beat. Why were there so many police officers storming into her apartment? Did they really just break her windows? Were these even real cops? Was she in danger?

"We've gotcha now, crackhead!" A cop snarls. The police have encircled the couch on which Adore is sitting rigid.

Outrage sears through Adore. How dare they break her property? There probably isn't any evidence against her. As much as she's furious, she's too frightened to retaliate, so she stays glued to her spot on the couch.

A portly policeman tears through her makeup bag and rips out her container of loose setting powder. Despite her intoxication, Adore is able to infer where this is going. She hates it.

"Smuggling meth in ya makeup?" He bellows, shaking the container in her face. "You've got some nerve, little lady!"

"NO! That's not meth, it's my damn setting powder!" Adore wails as a sinewy policewoman claps her in handcuffs and shoves her towards the door. "That's my fucking setting powder! Take it for testing if you want!"

Just then, the policewoman that had handcuffed Adore earlier unlocks her handcuffs. Before Adore can question her, she grabs the two policemen next to her and smashes their foreheads together, knocking them out cold. She rolls to the floor together with Adore as a bullet whizzes past them, then whips a flash grenade out of her pocket and hurls it at the remaining cops. It explodes and blinding rays engulf the living room.

"Where're... we... going..." Adore slurs as she's shouldered and tossed into a passenger seat. The supposed policewoman slams her foot down on the accelerator instantly without sparing Adore a millisecond to buckle up. The car lurches forward, flinging Adore back against the seat.

"Explain later," states the woman, who Adore has surmised is definitely not a policewoman.

The woman cuts across a lawn to get to a busier road, but catches sight of a search helicopter overhead. The police cars pursuing them are a good distance behind, but that's not enough. She needs to lose them completely.

"Thanks for saving me," mutters Adore while the vehicle is driven into a wooded area with lush greenery. That should at least get the helicopter out their hair. The woman kills the car lights and zips through dark growth as fast as the stolen car will go, deftly manoeuvring around the trees. 

The car hurtles out of the foliage, back onto the main road. Two of the cop cars have become distant specks of blinking red and blue, but a third police car bursts out from a side road, just several metres behind.

"Fuck..." Adore groans. "Can't we use an... another one of those light explosion thingys?"

"No, other drivers will get hurt," the woman answers as she steers the car toward an overpass at full throttle, zig-zagging between cars, widening the gap between them and the nearest police car on their tail. A bullet whooshes past the side of the car as the fake cop spins it rapidly towards the wooden railing of the overpass at full speed. 

The rear end of the car rams the wooden railing, shattering it. The car soars through the air.

"OHMYGOD ARE WE- DID YOU- AAHHHHHHHH!" Adore shrieks as she digs her nails into her seat.

The car lands softly on several treetops and begins its slow descent.

The police car pulls up to the broken railing and Bianca grabs another flash grenade and propels it toward them. It smashes through the windshield of the police car and emits harsh light that renders the officers sightless.

The mysterious woman who'd pretended to be a cop hops out of the bashed up car and yanks Adore out of the passenger seat.

"You okay there, Adore?" She asks as Adore nearly collapses onto her. 

"How'd you know... my name?" Adore inquires, steadying herself.

"I know a lot of things," she replies as she leads them through a few trees onto a well-lit path. "Anyway, I'm Bianca."

©TRIXYASTRIPCLUBXO 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading♥️♥️♥️ crashing through a railing in a chase is so bloody cliche but I just had to, yanno? HAHAHA
> 
> Also!! I need to name the villains so let me know which queen(s) you want them to be! I'll be taking what y'all say into account as well as which queens I want them to be hhaaha♥️


	2. Protect the vulnerable, defend the innocent, annihilate the corrupt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi there will be brief mentions of violence here fyi, BUT NOBODY HAS DIED. They're based off things actual murderers have done to their victims 'cause ya girl is a true crime fanatic.

Adore blinks ploddingly. She's lying on a bed. Her eyes adjust to a room with pastel blue walls, basic windows and a portable wooden table with some snacks and drinks on it. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was... 

**_-28 minutes and 41 seconds ago-_ **

"Come with me," invites Bianca, extending her hand to the younger woman. "You're drunk and they'll still be looking for you."

"Where...?" Adore inquires just as a speeding pink Tesla slows to a halt next to them. Were they going to ride in that pink Tesla? _That’s so fucking cool!_ she muses. She takes Bianca's hand and hops into the car. It's not like she could go back to her damaged home, anyway. That aside, she has a ton of questions for Bianca.

"Somewhere they won't find you," Bianca responds as she pulls the door shut. 

The woman at the wheel wastes no time in making them scarce as their surroundings turn to a blur.

"Hey B? Don't shoot the messenger, but Katya says that was too close," the blonde haired driver in a pink ruffled dress informs Bianca. “You know how anxious she gets about us.”

"It's more fun when you cut it close," Bianca argues. "Try it some time, you salty cracker."

"Fun until you get caught," Miz Cracker banters. She lifts one hand from the steering wheel to grab two bottles of water and passes them behind her, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Well I didn't get caught in case you didn't notice," Bianca claps back as she opens a bottle of water for Adore and advises her to sober up. "Also thanks for getting us."

Miz Cracker's pink gloss-coated lips tilt upwards. 

"Promise me you never will."

Bianca rolls her eyes but grins and makes the promise to her fellow mobster. A comfortable silence follows. Adore takes in her surroundings. They appear to be in a wooded area again.

Miz Cracker winds down the window and announces, “Okay Katelyn! Time for dinner!” after which the doors to a cabin part and she drives into it. A painting slides sideways to reveal a complex looking machine that scans the car and its passengers. An orange light comes on with a buzz, and Miz Cracker types a complicated password on a virtual screen. They then enter a maze-like structure.

That's the last thing Adore recalls before the booze she’d consumed got the better of her.

"Oh good, you're not dead," a raspy voice declares, summoning Adore back to reality. Adore can't tell whether the speaker's joking or not.

Peering in the direction of the voice, Adore recognises the woman that saved her from the cops earlier. What was her name again? Bi... oh, Bianca. 

Adore manages to croak a feeble greeting.

"Hey Bianca."

Bianca scoots over to Adore's bed with more water.

“How sweet, you remember my name!” Bianca jests. “Now drink up, your hangover must be horrible.”

Adore thanks her and takes the glass from her hand.

“Oh, and _don’t_ tell anyone that I wasn’t being a total bitch towards you,” adds Bianca.

Adore simpers while sipping her water. Did Bianca have a reputation for being mean? As far as she was concerned Bianca was the nicest person she’d met because she’d saved her from unjustly rotting away in jail. How Bianca had known her name was a little unsettling, but Bianca was probably a spy or something of that sort - given the security checks she’d witnessed before she blacked out and her disguise, so she didn’t pay it much thought.

“You’re supposed to be a vicious bitch?” Adore giggles. “I’m one thousand percent _not_ buying it.”

“Oh, well… That’s tragic,” Bianca chuckles as she refills Adore’s water.

A grisly caterwaul erupts from a nearby room, followed by frantic shouting.

Adore instinctively clings to Bianca’s shoulder, whispering, “Are we in trouble?”

“No, someone’s probably badly injured,” comforts Bianca, gingerly wrapping an arm around Adore. Had it been anyone else cozying up to her like she was a teddy bear, she’d have irrately kicked them across the room by now. To her surprise however, it’s somehow tolerable when Adore does it. _Adorable, even._ She inwardly slaps herself at the dimwitted pun.

Meanwhile, a few rooms away, a distraught Russian berserkly claws at her voluminous, crimped blonde waves. _Get it together, you’re the boss, you can’t unravel like this,_ she chides herself. The victim of an attempted murder has just been brought into their medical unit by Miz Cracker. As the doctors fuss over the bloodied and bruised woman, the distressed mob boss inadvertently takes heed of the woman's bewitching, ravishing appearance. 

She’s too gorgeous to die. She has the distinct resemblance of a doll with her neon pink eyeshadow, thick black eyeliner and sharp cheek and jaw contour. She’s undoubtedly the most beautiful woman that the mastermind has laid eyes upon.

The furious boss wants to exterminate the vile pests that had the audacity to even think of murdering her. She’d gladly impale them, hang them upside down on a fan, and let them bleed a slow, gruelling, torturous death. No, she’ll drop them in a slightly acidic solution and let them dissolve in agony. Or maybe she’ll tie them up and drop heavy rocks on them at intervals, gradually crushing-

“Biiiiiitch? Earth to Katya!”

The boss jumps slightly, mentally batting away the vengeful images. She turns in the direction of the voice.

“Sorry, Jaida. I was… disturbed,” Katya explains. “Is she going to be okay?”

Jaida, the chief medical officer nods.

“She’s severely dehydrated and has lost a lot of blood, but we can fix that. No permanent harm done.”

Katya expels a breath that she'd been holding subconsciously.

“Thank you, Jaida.”

The doctor turns on her heel, about to walk away, but takes one last look at Katya.

“You like her.”

Without waiting for Katya’s response, she stides off behind the medics wheeling the victim away.

Katya sighs. Had her fixation been that obvious?

Katya retreats to her office. She’s sick and tired of the law not bringing killers to justice. The city was infested with murderers, yet the court failed to imprison them time and time again, claiming there was ‘insufficient evidence’. 

It’s time for the mob themselves to clamp down on these abhorrent, repulsive, appalling criminals. 

That is Mob Zamo’s motto, after all.

**_Protect the vulnerable, defend the innocent, annihilate the corrupt._ **

©TRIXYASTRIPCLUBXO 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! let me know which queen(s) u want to be the villains lol <3<3  
> sorry I copyright my stuff cos a few years ago someone tried to steal my writing (not on AO3)


	3. I really, really, really like you

Katya hurries to the medical wing of the complex, through a bubblegum pink door, into a room of the same colour. Miz Cracker’s seated next to the patient’s bed and they seem to be chatting about makeup. Miz Cracker always has a way of helping even the most traumatised patients relax. They both turn their attention to Katya when she struts in.

Miz Cracker introduces them cheerily.

“Oh, Trixie, this is our boss, Katya! Katya, this is Trixie.”

Miz Cracker tilts her face so that Trixie can’t see it, and shoots Katya a wink.

“Hi Trixie,” Katya greets, sailing over to her bedside. “How are you feeling?”

Trixie discreetly checks the boss out. Her mere presence is incredibly charming. Oh honey, was she crushing  _ this _ soon? She’d only come to less than twenty minutes ago in this ‘private safety organisation’ - as Miz Cracker had called it, and she was  _ already _ fawning over the boss. That was inappropriate of her, wasn’t it? 

“Hi… Katya the boss? Boss Katya?” Trixie addresses Katya unsurely, fiddling with the pink bedsheet. “I’m in pain, but I’m just happy to be alive. Thank you for sending Aquaria and Cracker to rescue me. Your medical team was really good too.”

“Just call me Katya,” Katya informs her with a smile. “I'm just glad they could help you. We'll do our best to give you a fast recovery.”

_ What if I don't want a fast recovery? So I can hang around here with the hot boss?  _ Trixie muses.

“Thanks, Katya.”

“I've prepared a little surprise, actually. Would you like to see it?” Katya offers Trixie, who agrees, equal parts eager and curious. “Could you dim the lights, Cracker?”

Miz Cracker nods and does as she’s told, casting a magical soft glow over the pink room. She then slips out of the room to go somewhere she’s not supposed to.

“Look out of the window,” Katya purrs, pressing the detonator in her hand. Owning an arsenal of explosives sure came in handy for impressing one’s eyecandy.

Trixie gasps in fascination as flares of bright, radiant pink shoot up into the sky. They burst, dispersing shimmery fragments of fuchsia all around them. They're accompanied by fireworks of other colours as well, but are pink for the most part. They explode into shapes like hearts, crescent moons and flowers.

Trixie’s awestruck. Katya had prepared a firework display for…  _ her?! _

“Thanks Katya, this is really sweet of you. I appreciate it,” Trixie acknowledges, admiring the array of colours illuminating the sky before her. Watching the fireworks has enabled to take her mind off the horrific ordeal she’s been through. All that she's paying attention to in this moment is Katya and her firework show.

“I guessed you liked pink because both your dress and eyeshadow were pink,” Katya confesses. “I hope you like the surprise?”

“Like it?!” Trixie questions, astounded that Katya had doubts about whether she'd appreciate the fireworks. “I love it! It's so pretty!”

Katya grins.

“Now for the finale,” she hums.

Fireworks go off, producing multicoloured butterflies. A few minutes later, the exhibition is complete and a cloud of fog hangs in the dark night sky.

“Katya, I loved that and all, don't get me wrong, but why me?” Trixie queries. 

Katya leans against the bed frame slightly.  _ I’m infatuated with you,  _ she represses.

“Delighting our customers,” she claims, beaming disarmingly, hoping that Trixie believes her. 

The smile forming on Trixie’s face indicates that she buys Katya’s coverup, as she jests, “Wow. If I ever have to go to a hospital I’m gonna demand that they take me here instead.”

“I hope you don't have to,” Katya declares earnestly. “I’d hate to-”

A mobster with blue-streaked straight blonde hair, clad in black stumbles into the room.

“Katya!”

Katya whips around and glares at her. How dare she interrupt the moment that she was stealing with Trixie?

“This better be good, Aquaria. I was quite enjoying myself getting to know Trixie,” Katya states in a disconcertingly level voice. She only sounds that calm when she’s ballistic on the inside. 

“Well I’m sorry, but Cracker’s following a po - uh - bad people car!” a flabbergasted Aquaria blurts, taking note of Trixie in the room. Miz Cracker had been following a police car, but their code word for that in front of non-mobsters was ‘car of bad people’.

Katya's glare dissipates.

“Go after her. Take Juju and Tati,” she instructs. “Be careful.”

Aquaria wraps Katya in a brief hug before scampering off.

“Sorry, Trixie. Sometimes Cracker gets over-ambitious and puts herself in danger for others,” Katya explains. That much was true, she’d merely excluded a few details.

Earlier, Cracker planted a microphone on an unsuspecting policeman, using a crowd for cover. She now listens in on their conversation as she tails them discreetly.

“What exactly are we  _ meeting _ these  _ supposed murderers  _ for, and why are we not  _ arresting _ them?!” A suspicious voice interrogates.

“Quit worryin’, Kameron. They’re payin’ us to  _ take _ their evidence. They don't go to jail, and we get moneyyy!” a sleezy voice gloats. “Ain't that a win-win?”

Infuriated, Miz Cracker skillfully hides her car behind other vehicles on the road, hot on their trail. The police car eventually halts at a dingy, poorly-lit alley. Miz Cracker parks a few blocks away and creeps up on them.

“I… really don't think it’s  _ safe for us _ to do this,” Kameron protests. Her values are gnawing away at her, but her colleagues have proved to not have the tiniest sliver of morality in them, thus using that to dissuade them would be in vain.

“Rookie, when we want your two cents we’ll ask, ‘ight?! We’ve been doin’ this for  _ years! _ ” an agitated gruff voice sneers. “Now shut the hell up. You're prettier when ya don’t talk.”

Miz Cracker lets out a growl in response to the officer’s incivility as she ducks behind a tree. She catches a glimpse of four police officers, only one of which is a woman. She infers that that's Kameron, because Kameron sounded female. That despicable officer had been wrong. Kameron wasn't pretty.

She was drop dead gorgeous, even in that repulsive police uniform. 

Kameron bristles as a bunch of alleged serial killers emerges from a decrepit building. She’s outraged and scared to death all at once. She'd become a policewoman because she wanted to end crime, not encourage it.

One of the serial killers drawls, “here’s yer fifty grand. Don’t for-”

_ Whoosh! _

The alleged killer crumples to the ground, followed by his lackeys and the other officers, until only Kameron’s left standing.

Kameron instinctively ducks, but someone calls out to her.

“Hi there Kameron. Don't worry, I won't hurt you.”

Kameron’s eyes dart around, until she spots a sleek silhouette lowering herself from a nearby tree.

“You - please - uh - what - how -” Kameron stammers, backing away from the figure.

“I didn't kill them, I just knocked them out,” Miz Cracker assures her. The darts that she’d fired weren’t lethal. They contained a poison that induced fainting and destroyed muscles, rendering anyone that they hit crippled. The mob had a no-kill policy, but this was just as effective in ensuring that murderers didn't harm anyone ever again.

“Oh - uh - okay,” Kameron stutters, still stunned. “How did you - uh - know… my n-name?”

An apologetic smile spreads across Miz Cracker’s face as she stoops and picks up the miniature microphone she’d planted on one of the officers, presenting it to Kameron.

Instead of reacting in a shocked or cross manner, Kameron just laughs.

“That's so simple but so smart!” she compliments.

Miz Cracker frowns as she steps closer. She's just knocked out about nine people in front of Kameron, and Kameron's  _ praising _ her methods?

Kameron scans over Miz Cracker appraisingly.

“Who are you?” 

“Miz Cracker, but Cracker will do,” she discloses. “That’s not my real name, but I can’t tell you-”

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” a familiar voice shrieks aggressively from behind Miz Cracker. 

Miz Cracker throws her arms around Kameron protectively.

“Don’t shoot, Aquaria!” Miz Cracker shouts. “Don’t you dare!”

Tatianna emerges from the shadows and presses a gun to Kameron’s shoulder.

“Give me one good reason why,” Tatianna snarls.

Miz Cracker closes her hand around the barrel of the gun, still hugging Kameron.

“She can be a mole for us, duh,” Miz Cracker reasons, staring right into Tatianna’s eyes.

“How do we know she won't betray us?” Jujubee demands, appearing on the other side of Kameron, gun raised.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Kameron cries. “I wasn't - it’s not - I - I didn't know they did horrid stuff like that!”

“Can y’all just stop aiming your guns at her for a second?” Miz Cracker pleads. Although Kameron hadn't stood up to the officers or the serial killers, she couldn't fault her for that - she was simply looking out for her own safety. If Kameron had dared to object, in all likelihood, she'd have ended up dead. If these cops didn't have a problem facilitating murder, they probably could commit it without qualms as well.

Her three friends only lower their guns slightly. They cautiously back away from Kameron towards Aquaria’s car.

Miz Cracker pulls away from Kameron, taking her by her shoulders. She explains what she and her friends do with discretion, making them sound like nothing more than a group of anti-crime friends. 

“So… can you help us?” Miz Cracker persuades Kameron. “Just tell me their whereabouts. We’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

A small giggle escapes Kameron. 

“Alright,” she agrees. “You guys sound really cool.”

“If you two are done flirting, can we go?” Aquaria snaps. Miz Cracker has been gazing at Kameron as though she was the most beautiful thing in the world. That’s not fair. Aquaria’s known Miz Cracker since they were toddlers. A few years ago, she’d developed feelings for Cracker but never acted on them. She wasn't about to let some pathetic  _ policewoman _ steal her dream girl.

Miz Cracker glances at Aquaria quizzically. She’d almost sounded  _ jealous. _ She laughs it off, facing Kameron again.

“Don't mind her. That’s just her sense of humour.” Miz Cracker lies, earning a simper from Kameron. “Get home safe okay, Kameron?”

Kameron pulls Miz Cracker in for another hug before they part ways. 

When they're back at the mob headquarters, Aquaria pulls Miz Cracker aside.

“Brianna.”

Miz Cracker flinches. Nobody’s called her that in an indefinitely long time.

“I saw how you were looking at that Kameron bitch,” Aquaria spits, unable to contain her jealousy. “So I just have to shoot my shot before it’s too late. I really, really, really like you, Brianna. I have for three years now.”

Brianna gapes at her. She's stunned speechless.

“You don't have to like me back. I just wanted you to know,” Aquaria clarifies.

Aquaria strides off, then turns to wink at Brianna.

“Think about it, yeah?”


End file.
